In the month of July, 1780, Doctor Geoffery Gambado was visited, from Birmingham, by the celebrated cutler, Mr. John Green, a gentleman who had become uncommonly dyspeptic from a great excrescence, wart, or wen, that grew out of his right temple, almost covering his ear. It gave him no particular pain, except when he chanced to recline upon that part of his head; yet, as every body looked at it, who came into his shop, and when he appeared at church, or in any public place, he grew uncommonly irritable and nervous. The faculty pronounced it too large to be cut out; and, if the truth be told, Mr. Green himself had such a horror of cutting, that, though a dealer in cutlery and in the very first steel articles, he had an unconquerable distaste to the knife being used upon his own person.

Like many other good kind of men, he dealt in articles that others might use; but he himself had no wish to use them. Those who use the sinews of men, that is, of other men, for their own speculative purposes, and actually abhor the use of the very things they sell, should be careful of the exciting, inciting, or foolish words they utter, lest their language should superinduce others to use those articles in which their traffic is, to their own destruction. Mr. Burton, the great Quaker, was a dealer in Burton ale to a great extent, though he was himself a rigidly abstemious man; yet, as his trade was a good one, and paid well both in the north and south, he could afford to give considerable sums to temperance, or even total abstinence societies, without feeling any loss in his trade. The fact is, until the bright men of traffic shall find out that the ruling principle of their souls is coveteousness, they will never reform the world by a spurious profusion of words and calculations, which have only that one principle to appeal to as their own support.

Mr. Green dealt in swords, and knives and forks, in guns and pistols, in lancets and razors; but he would not suffer the lancet or the knife to touch his own flesh. He was a dealer in weapons, not in blows. A man of peace, yet, like many a man styling himself a friend to humanity, and assuming apostolic liberty, he could find fault with every thing and every body; yet, for trade's sake, he had no objection to the demand for swords, guns, or pistols. He could supply the government with any quantity from his stores in Birmingham.

It must be confessed, that his nervous affection, and melancholy disposition arose more from the wart upon his brow, and all its external irritations, than from any qualms of conscience, arising from any kind of self examination, self accusation, or self condemnation. Few men's consciences so trouble them in the day of their prosperity.

He was recommended to consult the great nervous Doctor of the age, Doctor Gambado. So he went to town, had an interview with the Doctor, described all his agitating ails, and received this advice:

"Ride on horseback."

"But do you think that will do me any good?"

"I am quite sure it will do you some good,—to what extent it is impossible to say,—that must depend upon your patience and perseverance. One thing you can always do, namely, wear a hat that will cover the appearance of the excrescence, and I should not be surprised at its being the means of reducing its size considerably."

Little did the Doctor himself imagine how a cure, by his advice, was completely effected.

"Oh, Doctor!" exclaimed Mr. Green, "what would I not give could it be entirely eradicated by such gentle means as horseback exercise. I am no great rider, but I would ride any distance, and almost any horse, to get rid of this awkward protuberance."

"Well, my dear sir, we will try. Nothing like trying."

"I have heard, Doctor, that you have large stables, and keep horses of all kinds."

The Doctor could not help smiling when he thought of his own fame, as a horse keeper, horse doctor, and horse furnisher.

"I have large stables at the back of my house, and I have three horses of my own; but I never kept one for sale, or sold one myself. I let off my stables to a livery-keeper, who has ten or a dozen horses here, namely to Mr. John Tattsall, who has the credit of being able to suit everyone, only each must pay well to be suited."

"I should not mind what I had to pay, if I could be suited to my mind."

"Let us go and give him a look. If you can at all describe to him the sort of horse you want, I think he will soon be able to accommodate you. You may be sure, if the horse can be had, he will get it for you, if it is not at this time in his stable."

The Doctor's fee was cheerfully paid, £10 10s. neatly wrapt up in tissue paper. He had been told nothing less could be expected from a master cutler.

Mr. Green put on his large slouchy broad-brimmed hat that covered half his face; and the Doctor and his patient were soon in the presence of the great Mr. Tattsall.

"John, this gentleman wants a horse."

"Glad of it, sir. Pray what sort of horse do you want, sir?"

"A good one."

"Every body wants that, and I have a great many good 'uns;' but I like to know the sort of good 'un that a gentleman requires. One man likes a bay, another a gray, another a roan, another a chestnut; but the colour is not always the description. One likes a high action, another a gentle goer, another a thunderer, another a prime bang up; one likes a thorough-bred, another a hunter; some require cobs, others carriage horses, others ladies' horses, others park horses; but if you can describe the sort of animal you want, I can soon tell you if I can suit you."

"I did once see a horse," said Mr. Green, evidently calling up to his recollection days long gone by; "I did once see a horse that made me say to myself, 'There! if ever I ride on horseback, I should like to get just such a horse as that.' It was gentleness and elegance personified. It was a beautiful creature. It turned out its toes, just lifted one foot above the other, with a kind of quick cross action, and then set it down with such elegance and ease, that it seemed to trip along over the ground, exactly like a dancing master. Proud was its bearing, head up, and tail high," and Mr. Green most poetically described it in these words:

"Sir, I perceive you are a poet."

"Not a bit of it. I only cut them out of the Poet's Corner, in the Star, and I think the author's name was 'Anon;' but it mattered not as to who was the author, it described the very horse; and I thought then, and I think so still, that by a very short transposition it would suit my wife, and perhaps many others. What think you, sir?"

The Doctor and the dealer could not help laughing.

"I perceive, sir, you are a wag; if you are not a poet. I congratulate you upon having so charming a creature for your wife; and I only wish I may be able to suit you with as good a horse."

"Have you a horse of this description?"

"I have a mare exactly of that kind, and we call her the Daisy Cutter."

"Pray, let me see her."

"Shall I ride her, to show you her qualities?"

"If you please."

"Bring out the Daisy Cutter."

She was brought forth, and John soon set her off to advantage.

"Just the very thing! Just the very thing! Will you send her down to Birmingham? I am not exactly in riding trim, or I would ride her down myself."

The animal was paid for, sent home, and proved to be the very creature suited to Mr. Green's case.

He rode his celebrated Rosenante every evening, and greatly improved in bodily health. He actually became cheerful, and his wife blessed the good Doctor Gambado for having restored her husband to himself again.

Alas! for human infirmities, or for human vagaries! One of the most wonderful complaints of nervous hypochondriacism, was actually cured, together with its cause, by a momentary spree.

One beautiful evening, the little man was riding in the gaiety of his heart toward Aston Hall, visions of future greatness passing before his eyes, when, just upon the greensward in front of the park gates, there lay in his way a great black hog, on the very edge of the road. He thought within himself, that he should like to take a leap smack over the animal's back; and just looking round to see that no eye should behold his spree, he gave his "Rosenante" an unwonted kick with his heels.

She was certainly surprised at her master's unwonted action, and in the spurt of the moment, cocked her tail, lifted her head, and quickened her pace;—but whether she did not see the hog, or could not leap over it if she did, she ran directly over the animal, and fell over it, awaking it in a horrible fright to scamper grunting away;—but, alas! she pitched her own head, and her master's head also, without his hat, upon the hard road. They both went the whole hog. Mr. Green lay senseless on the road, in a pool of blood, arising from the severity of the blow, which tore away the whole scalp of the forehead, together with the entire wart or excrescence which grew thereupon. His Rosenante affrighted, returned to Birmingham,—was soon recognized,—and Mr. Green was soon carried insensible to the hospital. He remained there some days, recovering himself and his senses.

Thus the Daisy Cutter and his vagaries became a proverb in Birmingham. And that which skill could not, or rather through nervous apprehension was not, permitted to try, a black hog, one of the most unlikely things in the world, was instrumental in effecting.